


and i can easily understand, how easily you could take my man

by bleep0bleep



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drunk Derek, Human Derek Hale, Jealous Derek, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Season/Series 04, Singing Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 10:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2064588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleep0bleep/pseuds/bleep0bleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Your smile is like a breath of spring, your voice is soft like summer rain, and I cannot compete with you, Jordan…”</p>
<p>The voice drifts along the hallway of the loft building, a clear tenor that’s rich with sorrow. Stiles stops in his tracks, is that…Derek? Singing a country song, twangs and all. It sounds good though. He must be still drunk, he’s not even getting the song right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and i can easily understand, how easily you could take my man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhoNatural](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoNatural/gifts).



> _This work is intended for the private enjoyment of the reader. I do not give permission to this work being read aloud and/or shared with the press, or anyone working on said production of_ Teen Wolf, _including but not limited to cast, crew, writers, or producers. I also do not give permission share this work on third-party websites such as Goodreads, which I believe is a resource intended for published works outside of fandom._
> 
> ~
> 
> For Niamh's [prompt:](http://bleep0bleep.tumblr.com/post/93475752140/howlnatural-fic-where-now-human-derek-gets) _Fic where now-human Derek gets hammered for the first time in his life and is found woefully singing Dolly Parton’s Jolene but replacing the name in the lyrics with ‘Jordan’_
> 
>  
> 
> **This fic contains spoilers up to Season 4, Episode 6.**

"Your smile is like a breath of spring, your voice is soft like summer rain, and I cannot compete with you, Jor _dan_ …”

The voice drifts along the hallway of the loft building, a clear tenor that’s rich with sorrow. Stiles stops in his tracks, is that…Derek? Singing a country song, twangs and all. It sounds good though. He must be still drunk, he’s not even getting the song right.

Being human really takes it out of the former werewolf, their first pack party (“Not the entirety of Beacon Hills’ teenaged population,” Derek had warned when Lydia was planning the shindig in Derek’s loft) had gone really well, and Stiles had spent most of the night listening to Deputy Parrish’s funny stories about trying to master his dragon powers. He also had gave Stiles some tips too on how to pursue his crush, since Derek had been working with the Sheriff’s Department as a supernatural consultant of sorts. Stiles had nearly had a heart attack when his dad told him Derek was going to apply for the new deputy position. 

He’s not sure how he’ll be able to handle Derek in a uniform. 

Scott apparently had a good time teaching Derek how to shotgun beer cans, Liam looking eagerly over and sipping his very carefully monitored single beer of the night. Stiles laughs at the memory of Derek licking away beer foam from his lips, coughing at the taste of the alcohol. 

He’s pretty sure his sweatshirt is still stuffed under the couch where he shucked it during Parrish talking about Afghanistan. 

"And I can easily understand, how you could easily take my man, but you don’t know what he means to me,  _JORDAN_!” 

Stiles pauses outside the metal sliding door to the loft. It doesn’t sound like Derek doesn’t know the song…it’s like he’s singing it deliberately this way.   
  
"Jordan, Jordan, Jordan,  _JORDANNNN!_ I’m begging of you please don’t take my man, Jordan, Jordan, Jordan, Jordan, please don’t take him just because you can…” 

This verse is softer, and sad. Stiles freezes. Is Derek pining for someone? And he’s jealous of this Jordan person? Oh man, this sucks.

“You could have your choice of men, but I could never love again…He’s the only one for me, Jordan…”

They say drunk people are the most honest, and it sounds like Derek is truly, desperately in love with this guy, the way he’s singing about losing him. Stiles can’t even be happy about the victory of confirming that Derek is into guys because  _Derek is in love,_ holy shit. 

Stiles sinks to the floor outside the loft, sliding against the door and sitting dejectedly in the hallway. He looks at his feet, thinking about his options— it’s not like it’s the end, right? And they’re friends, right, after all the bullshit they’ve gone through together. Stiles guesses it’s probably only recently he’s figured out he might want more. It’s a new thing, having a word for it— bisexuality— and Stiles is learning new things everyday. Parrish was really cool about it, gave him lots of helpful websites and stuff, even tolerated Stiles coming into the station and commandeering his lunch hour to talk about cut versus uncut dicks. 

He’s a cool dude. Anyone who is that passionate about circumcision is alright in Stiles’ book. 

Stiles takes a deep breath, standing up and stretching a little. Before he can knock the door slides open, revealing Derek, looking good in only a pair of sweatpants. 

"Hey," Stiles says brightly. "You knew I was here!" 

"Proximity alarm," Derek slurs, eyes blinking sleepily at Stiles. 

"Cool," Stiles says, glad he didn’t put his foot in his mouth by saying something about residual werewolf senses or something. "Um, I left my sweatshirt here, can I get it?" 

Derek is just  _looking_ at him, so Stiles takes it as a yes. He walks into the apartment, heading for the couch. His sweater isn’t anywhere under the cushions, and after a few minutes of searching he huffs and gives up. “Derek? Do you know where my sweatshirt is? You know the gray plaid hoodie I was wearing to the party?” 

"Didn’t look like you needed it," Derek grumbles. "You wore  _Jordan’s_  jacket,” he says quietly, but Stiles just barely picks it up.

"Wait, what? I don’t know any Jordan," Stiles says, confused. The man-stealing Jordan from Derek’s song? Deputy Parrish did lend his jacket to Stiles briefly before Stiles gave it back, saying he was going back to the loft to get it back and also maybe hang out with Derek. "You mean  _Deputy Parrish_?” 

Derek looks at his feet. 

Wait, does this make Stiles— the love interest? 

Stiles is trying to process this when Derek pulls something from under his, his pillow, oh fuck, he was planning on cuddling Stiles’ sweater to sleep— this is way too adorable for words, and Stiles can barely comprehend that  _he’s_ the reason Derek is all pouty-drunk-face right now. 

Derek holds out the sweatshirt, like an offering. 

"Derek, you know I don’t— I’m not interested in Deputy Parrish, right?" Stiles says slowly. 

"You hang out with him all the time. You told your dad how cool he was. You brought him lunch. He was your date tonight," Derek says sadly. 

Stiles huffs indignantly. “I hang out with him because he’s my  _friend,_ you idiot! And he’s a  _dragon,_ of course he’s cool, of course I find him interesting, I brought him lots of foods to see what he was and wasn’t allergic to so we could put it down in the new bestiary, and tonight he wasn’t my date, we were just  _hanging out_ because I was too chickenshit and needed encouragement to actually talk to you, dumbass,” Stiles says all in one go. 

Derek stares at him, dumbfounded. This many words probably isn’t working for him right now. 

"I like you, okay," Stiles admits "I want to be with you, date you, kiss you, do all the things…aaaand you’re probably not going to remember any of this tomorrow," he says, noting the glassy-eyed look on Derek’s face. 

Stiles takes his sweatshirt, pulling it on and zipping it up. He walks over to the kitchen area, rooting around until he finds the stash of water bottles they had bought for the party. He grabs two of them and heads back to where Derek is now sitting on his bed, staring at Stiles again. 

"Stiles," Derek says, like he’s just forgotten the previous conversation. "You’re here," he says, awed, reaching out for one of Stiles’ hands. He takes his hands, the water bottles plopping on the bedspread. Derek slowly lining up his fingers with each of Stiles’ own, counting slowly. When he gets to ten, he looks wide-eyed up at Stiles, ”Ten. Ten, Stiles, this is real,” he says, voice shaking a little.

"Yeah, it’s real," Stiles says. "You are hella wasted right now." He uncaps one of the water bottles and holds it up to Derek’s lips. "Here, drink this." 

Derek doesn’t even take the bottle, just parts his lips and lets Stiles tilt it into his mouth, slurping at it. 

"Right, okay, you finish that, and the other one too when you wake up. I’m going to go—"

"No," Derek says, and there’s that pout again. Seriously, Stiles should take a picture for posterity, he can’t believe Derek Hale is  _pouting._ One of his hands is still on his, and Derek entwines their fingers, squeezing his hand. “Stay? Please.” 

He looks so soft and vulnerable like this, and Stiles can’t resist. “Okay, fine,” he concedes. He tugs his hand away so he can unlace his shoes, and kicks them into a corner. Stiles unzips his sweater, and shucks off his plaid overshirt as well.

Derek is watching him raptly, and Stiles colors a little, hands lingering on the button of his jeans. “Um, do you mind if I borrow some sweatpants or something? Since I’m staying…just to take care of your drunk human ass, right?”

"Sweatpants," Derek says slowly, his hands reaching for the his own waistband. 

"No, no, you keep those," Stiles says, blushing and putting a hand out to stop Derek before he strips. "Never mind, I’ll find them myself."

There’s a dresser of clothes in the far corner, and Stiles rummages through until he finds a pair of navy blue sweatpants. He does grin when he sees a familiar orange and blue shirt in Derek’s drawer. So that’s where that got to. 

Once Stiles is dressed he climbs back onto the bed, where Derek is now humming to himself. And giggling. “Stiles,” Derek says, reaching out a finger to trace along Stiles’ jaw.

"Hi," Stiles says, a little breathless. He can’t believe he’s doing this, he’s lying in Derek’s bed, next to Derek, who seems happy to just touch his face. "Hey, let’s not do that, okay?"

"Need to keep making sure," Derek says resolutely. "You’re real." 

The look on Derek’s face is making  warm and happy feelings blooms inside Stiles’ stomach, and he really wants to kiss Derek right now. But that would be so taking advantage of the situation. 

"Here, you can hold my hand the whole night so you know I’m real, okay, I’m not going anywhere," Stiles says, giving him his hand. Derek takes it, and presses one chaste kiss to the back of his hand, smiling shyly.

Somehow this is what makes Stiles the most embarrassed. “Goodnight, Derek,” he says, turning over so Derek doesn’t have to see him blush.

"Night, Stiles," Derek yawns.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles wakes up incredibly comfortable and warm. There’s a lot of light behind his eyelids, which is weird because his bedroom doesn’t face the east—

Ah. A hand curled around his waist. And what feels like a cock pressed up against his ass.

Stiles blinks and shifts a little, rocking right back into a very hard Derek Hale. 

"Derek?" Stiles asks. 

"Mmm," Derek says sleepily, and tugs Stiles even closer and  _grinding up_  on him, which apparently Stiles’ own cock is very interested in and is now starting to react to the situation. _  
_

"Derek!" Stiles repeats again. 

Derek’s eyes flit open, and it takes a few seconds for him to register that Stiles is in his bed, and then he jerks away. “Stiles— what are you doing here?”

"You asked me to stay," Stiles says simply. "How are you feeling?" 

Derek groans, grabbing his head. “There are fireworks still going off in my head.” 

"Here, let me," Stiles says, reaching out with his fingers to Derek’s temples, rubbing them and giving them just enough pressure. 

Derek lets out a low groan. “Ugh, thank you. Are those my sweatpants?” 

"Yup," Stiles says. "Do you remember anything from yesterday?"

"Bits and pieces…" Derek says.

Stiles hums a few chords of the Dolly Parton song and watches Derek’s mouth fall open. “That—that was a dream,” Derek says quickly.

"Nope," Stiles says with a smile. "I heard all of it. You can carry a tune, too, congrats." 

"So the part where you— you like me," Derek says hopefully. 

"Also true," Stiles says. 

Derek stares at him.

Stiles wiggles his fingers at him. “What, you wanna count em again? It’s all real, dude.” 

"I— you—"

"I hope you’re not still drunk," Stiles says. "I’m going to kiss you now." 

Derek beats him to it, kissing him soundly and enthusiastically until Stiles feels dizzy with it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can find me on tumblr [here.](http://bleep0bleep.tumblr.com)
> 
> There's also an amazing rendition of Dolly Parton's "Jolene" by Matt Cardle [ here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o4M3bdSJiUM) that you should check out.


End file.
